He’d said it so confidently, smiling, ruffling my hair.
And now, today, he’d gone back without telling me.
The car sped down the road, but my hands felt ice-cold.
A fear so intense it felt suffocating rose up inside me.
When I arrived, I could see the chaos from far away.
Crooked caution tape. Shouting crowds.
I didn’t even stop to ask what had happened; my eyes locked onto the overturned race car by the track.
The frame was mangled. The door was jammed.
In that instant, only one thought remained in me.
‘Is he going to die?’
Even if we were on the verge of divorce, the moment I saw that familiar car, I knew I couldn’t stay detached.
That was someone I had once loved deeply.
I forced my way through the crowd, stumbled to the car, and dropped to my knees.
“Tucker!”
My voice shook as I grabbed the warped door, trying desperately to pull it open.
Someone tried to stop me. “Verity, calm down! Rescue is already on the way—”
But I couldn’t hear them.
All I saw was the blood smeared across the driver’s seat, terrified it wouldn’t stop.
My knee slammed into the gravel. Pain shot through me.
But I didn’t care.
I worked with several staff members, prying at the door with everything we had.